The first day that I walked into Red Bread was the day that the LA Times ran a photo of the newly-opened brick-and-mortar Culver City store/restaurant on the front page of the Saturday Section, along with an article praising its rye. Not being a subscriber, I did not know this, and all of the bread had been sold out by the time I stumbled in at 2pm.

The next weekend, not being what you call an early bird, I again went in during the afternoon, but there was no loaves of sourdough to be had. No matter, a loaf of Russian black bread was tucked under my arm, and I filled my belly with the best quiche I’d had since Soul Kitchen.

Locanda is one of those restaurants I find it difficult to write about. Of course, it’s good. Honest food, some of it innovative, in an inviting space with an excellent bar. We even scored a table at the front windows facing out onto Valencia Street.

Everything was delicious and we left happy — but I guess what I’m trying to say is that it wasn’t exciting. Then again, is an Italian osteria meant to be exciting? Isn’t the entire point of the genre extremely simple but well-made, seasonal dishes?

Isn’t it so gratifying to find a kindred spirit? When Jessica of Thread and Bones reached out to me for an impromptu brunch while she was in LA, I had just the spot in mind — Gjelina in Venice, the much-hyped, reservationless spot on Abbot Kinney that’s held the food scene in thrall for years.

Over coffees, cocktails, and the clickety-clack of our cameras, under the wary eyes of the desperately hip front-of-house staff, we discussed our paths and passions and Paris — we had both been in the city at the same time and somehow managed not to meet, despite having similar haunts.

To ground the ephemerality of a friendship in its first flutterings of being formed, we had earthy Moroccan baked eggs and sturdy polenta studded with kale and bacon. And cocktails to loosen tongues, bien sur, not that we ended up needing them. We needed another hour or two of meandering through the Venice shops to try to talk ourselves out, and we were still yet unsuccessful. To be continued.

I’m going to warn you now: there are lots and lots of brunch posts coming. Please don’t think I’m one of those dithering ladies who rolls out of bed at noon and stumbles to brunch on a weekday — quite the opposite, in fact. These days, I’m lucky if I can manage an omelette at home before running off to work. So, on weekends, I enjoy the luxury of several hours lingering over coffee and cocktails and something with eggs.

Today? Back to the Mission and Bar Tartine.

Bar Tartine’s brunch revolves heavily around bread, toasted and piled with various toppings, as one would expect from the name. Considering how I feel about carbs, and how much I love Tartine Bakery down the street, it was inevitable that I would enjoy myself here.